Review: Nouvelle Vague

Image courtesy of Netflix.

Richard Linklater has recently released two movies about (predominately) 20th century artists - the first, "Blue Moon," was about the tragic life of American lyricist Lorenz Hart, while the other, "Nouvelle Vague," is about the exhilarating freedom of expression involved in the production of French New Wave director Jean-Luc Godard's debut, "Breathless."

The picture, shot in gorgeous black and white and a 4:3 aspect ratio, depicts Godard (Guillaume Marbeck) as one might expect - much like Bob Dylan, a cypher who only gives away what he wants others to know about him and nothing more. 

At the film's beginning, Godard is the last of the Cahiers du Cinema critics - who would go on to change French cinema forever as they became directors - to make a feature film. When the picture opens, he is attending the Cannes debut of pal Francois Truffaut's (Adrien Rouyard) classic "The 400 Blows." 

The picture is populated with New Wave icons and actors in their orbit, including Eric Rohmer, Jacques Rivette, Claude Chabrol, Jean-Pierre Melville, Agnes Varda, Jacques Demy, and Robert Bresson as well as legends Roberto Rossellini and Jean Cocteau. The actors portraying the leads of "Breathless" - Aubry Dullin as Jean-Paul Belmondo (he's a dead ringer) and Zoey Deutch as Jean Seberg - are particularly good.

Unlike "Blue Moon," Linklater's latest doesn't dig too deep into its lead character or prioritize thematic elements, but it's a charming and engaging film nonetheless. Much of this stems from Godard's refusal to play by the rules - ironically, "Breathless" would go on to be one of cinema's most cherished rule breakers, a film that challenged film's conventional modes of narrative, jump cuts and all.

The film shoot is planned for 20 days and its producer, Georges de Beauregard (Bruno Dreyfurst), and cast (especially Sebert) are put off by Godard's methods. He mostly works without a script and comes up with scenes for the film on a day-to-day basis. Rather than shoot all day like most films, he'll call in the cast to work for a few hours in the morning, decide that he's run out of inspiration for the day, and send everyone home. Of course, we all know that his film - and many of his other works - are expressions of genius, but those working with him at this moment consider him a madman.

"Nouvelle Vague" is Linklater expressing his love for the iconoclastic director and the French New Wave and it's the sort of picture that aims to interest viewers in the numerous great works of all of those depicted in the film. 

Viewers might not learn much about Godard in the process and the film follows the mantra of "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance": "When it comes to telling the truth or printing the legend, print the legend." So, yes, we see Godard in his trademark glasses, spouting off famous quotes for which he was known ("all you need for a movie is a girl and a gun") and speaking in cryptic quotes from others. But it's no matter: "Nouvelle Vague" is a highly enjoyable slice of cinema history and a love letter to the film movement that has inspired and influenced many of the greatest working directors today.

Review: The Running Man

Image courtesy of Paramount Pictures.

Director Edgar Wright's new version of "The Running Man" - which was previously adapted from the Richard Bachman, nee Stephen King, novella of the same name by Paul Michael Glaser and starred Arnold Schwarzenegger - is slightly better than his previous picture, the good-looking misfire "Last Night in Soho," but still a far cry from his best work.

Glen Powell takes over the lead duties as Ben Richards, a down-on-his-luck worker in a dystopian America who lives in a slum known as Co-Op City and can barely take care of his wife, who moonlights as stripper, and baby daughter. After he is fired for insubordination for taking on management over unsafe working conditions, he is desperate.

As a last-ditch strategy, Ben signs up to take part in "The Running Man," a violent reality show run by a corrupt, government-run TV network that provides shows in which the poor put themselves in peril for the entertainment of the city's rich denizens. In the titular program, three people - who are unfairly deemed as criminals by the network - must outrun a group of network assassins for 30 days to win the grand prize of $1 billion. Needless to say, no one has ever won it.

Network bigwig and lead villain Dan Killian (Josh Brolin) recognizes that Ben's anger - not to mention his superlative audition tapes - could be a great selling point for audiences and chooses him for the show. He and two others are set free and they make a go of it (separately) on the lam, while the networks goons chase them down.

Ben relies on an old friend (William H. Macy) and a connection with a history of a hostility against the police force (Michael Cera) to elude the goons, but he must eventually rely on his own wits to continue surviving. 

Much of Wright's early work was in the realm of parody of other genres - the popular "Shaun of the Dead" and, my personal favorite, the buddy-cop satire "Hot Fuzz" - while his work in recent years has moved to more serious fare. The action film "Baby Driver" represented a high point in his directorial work, but his recent two films - "Last Night in Soho" and this one - are missing his trademark flourishes.

Similar to many a remake, "The Running Man" was not necessary for a reboot, although paired with the recent (and better) "The Long Walk," the two Bachman books make for a dystopian double feature that feel timely in a disturbing way. 

There's a lot going on here that feels relevant - the poor struggling to get by while the opulent throw their wealth around and a public that doesn't even realize that those oppressing them are the bad guys - but the film leans more into wall-to-wall action than social commentary. All in all, this isn't a bad movie, just one that could have been more based on the source material (King's novella), the cast, and the director. 

Review: Die My Love

Image courtesy of MUBI.

Lynne Ramsay's "Die My Love" is an hallucinatory story about a woman with postpartum depression and psychosis that features a bold turn from star Jennifer Lawrence and is sure to alienate audiences nearly as much as Darren Aronofsky's "Mother!," a previous dark turn by the actress that left viewers scratching their heads.

Ramsay's film is an uncomfortable viewing experience and, for many, not what they'd describe as enjoyable. The closest example of another film that comes to mind would be John Cassavetes' landmark "A Woman Under the Influence," but imagine adding photography and a mood that feels closer to the horror genre.

We first see Grace (Lawrence) crawling through the grass near her secluded home - which I believe is somewhere in New York State - with a knife as her newborn sits in a baby chair. Her husband, Jackson (Robert Pattinson), comes outside looking for his wife and takes the baby indoors. The reason for Grace's behavior is never explained but it's all of a piece - whether she's spending time with Jackson's mother (Sissy Spacek) or acquaintances during a baby shower, she's doing something confrontational that is sure to make others uncomfortable.

During the aforementioned baby shower, she peels off everything but her bra and underwear in front of the guests and jumps into the swimming pool with the children. When one mother says to her that people never talk about how hard it is to be a parent, she retorts with, "That's all anyone ever talks about." During a scene at a convenience store, she is shockingly rude to a young woman who comments on her baby.

Ramsay's work has long focused on troubled minds going through some sort of psychosis, from the marvelous "Morvern Callar," which followed a young woman's journey after her boyfriend's death, to the school shooting drama "We Need to Talk About Kevin," and the unsettling hitman thriller "You Were Never Really Here."

Her latest is, perhaps, the one that most fixates on the psychosis itself. This is a film about a woman's unraveling. It's bleak, dark, sometimes complex, and often provides little in the way of answers - for example, there's a subplot in which Grace obsesses about a motorcyclist (LaKeith Stanfield) that feels dreamlike all the way through - or catharsis.

But what ultimately grounds all of this is Lawrence's performance, which is one that I'd categorize as a risk taker. Although one feels sympathetic toward Grace during the course of the film, she's also polarizing and, at times, unkind toward those around her. Her character is equally interesting and off-putting. 

As I'd mentioned before, this film will not likely be an easy sit for many audience members. It takes work and there's little light at the end of the tunnel. It's not one of my favorite Ramsay movies, but it is well made, challenging, and well acted. It's also not easy to shake.

Review: Frankenstein

Image courtesy of Netflix.

There have been many well-known directors who have struggled or longed to make their dream project, only to have it fall apart or, in more recent cases, end up on the screen with modest results. Recent examples have been Ridley Scott's "Napoleon"- which began as Stanley Kubrick's dream - or Francis Ford Coppola's "Megalopolis." Both of those films were worth seeing and had their merits, even if they weren't quite the visionary works that had been imagined.

I'm pleased to say that Guillermo Del Toro's long-gestating "Frankenstein" adaptation fares better than those and other dream projects of recent years. The film takes some liberties with Mary Shelley's classic novel but the storytelling, visuals, set design, and performances here make for one of the more unique and memorable tellings of this story of recent memory.

This new version of "Frankenstein" is set in the Victorian era, rather than 30-some years prior when the novel was set, and as such it gives doctor Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac) more access to electricity when he brings his creature to life. In this story, the creature itself isn't brought in from the gallows as in the novel, but is instead reconstructed from bodies fallen on the battlefield.

Much like in the novel, both the doctor and his creation (Jacob Elordi) end up in Antarctica. In this film, the picture's narrative device is Victor stumbling upon a ship full of Danish sailors who give him protection as he tells his tale. The first half of the film is focused on Victor, who became obsessed with defeating death after losing his mother to scarlet fever, and eventually loses his scruples as he constructs the creature.

The film's second half is told from the perspective of the creature, who is fearsome due to his strength but gentle and curious. He hides out in the barn of a family where he becomes friends with an old blind man whom he keeps company during the winter. Similarly, Mia Goth's Elizabeth, the fiancee of Victor's brother, shows kindness toward the creature when she discovers it in Victor's underground dwelling.

In his portrayal of the man who becomes a mad scientist, Isaac gives a strong performance as a man whose desire to cure man's ills started from a place of goodness, but eventually devolved into a god complex. His callousness toward the creature leads to some of the film's more emotionally horrific moments. Elordi is a scene stealer as the massive-in-size, but sympathetic and vulnerable, creature and Goth and Christoph Waltz, who plays a benefactor, deliver strong supporting work.

Del Toro has long been a creator of fantastical horror-drama hybrids, from his masterpiece "Pan's Labyrinth" to the underrated "The Devil's Backbone" and the Oscar winner "The Shape of Water." Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein" certainly is a film that fits into his wheelhouse - it could make a great double feature with "The Shape of Water," both films about misunderstood creatures - and this is one of the more memorable adaptations of the story. It is also one of the better realized dream projects of the modern era from a major filmmaker.

Review: Bugonia

Image courtesy of United International Pictures.

Despite his high profile in the world of cinema, Yorgos Lanthimos' films are still somewhat of an acquired taste. For me, there are some in which the brilliant madness results in something special - "Poor Things," "The Favourite," or "Dogtooth" - and other times, not so much ("The Killing of a Sacred Deer" and the second two-thirds of "Kinds of Kindness").

His latest, "Bugonia" is just as deranged as some of his best-known work and it's the first time the director is working with source material - in other words, it's a remake. The film from which it is adapted is the zany 2005 picture "Save the Green Planet" by Korean director Jang Joon-hwan. 

In the film, Jesse Plemons is Teddy, a conspiracy theorist whose mother (Alicia Silverstone) was left in a coma by tests run by a medical company. He lives in solitude with only his impressionable younger cousin, Donny (Aidan Delbis), and has become obsessed with the idea that aliens from the Andromeda Galaxy have taken over Earth. He believes that a particularly unpleasant CEO, Michelle (Emma Stone), who runs a company that I won't describe too much for fear of giving something away, is among the aliens and he concocts a dopey plot to kidnap her.

Despite the fact that I liked "Bugonia," for the most part, this is not a film with many people to root for, other than Donny, who has an innocence that doesn't allow him to see his cousin's plan for being as batshit as it is. Teddy seems to want to save the planet, but his views are nebulous and he has a violent streak that is only fully revealed until later, when another character surprisingly becomes the second sympathetic one in the film.

After kidnapping her, the two men shave Michelle's head and interrogate her during a series of scenes that start out ridiculous but become increasingly unsettling. Meanwhile, Michelle seems to be trying to play her own game, occasionally admitting that she is an alien and at other times calling out the insanity of it all. She clearly didn't climb the corporate ladder without some survival techniques.

Some might be put off by the film's mostly solitary location and the fact that much of it is conversational. Eventually, it all comes to a head and goes to some outrageous places and has a few surprises in store - that is, for those who haven't seen the original Korean film. The ending is among the most bleak I've seen in some time, but it has an anarchic sense of humor, much like Stanley Kubrick's "Dr. Strangelove," albeit gorier.

This has been a year with movies that have something to say about where we are heading as a society - some rank among the best of the year ("One Battle After Another"), while others deserve credit for the attempt even if they don't completely work ("Eddington"). 

Lanthimos' latest ranks second in that crowd. It's not among my favorite of his works, but it's well acted (Plemons is very good and Stone is fantastic) and it's a movie that is unafraid of going there. And it's at least as good as - if not slightly better than the original - which is a mostly rare thing.

Review: Blue Moon

Image courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics

 

A film about Broadway lyricist Lorenz Hart might on the surface seem a peculiar choice of subject matter for director Richard Linklater, but the manner in which the story is told is certainly within his wheelhouse. Set on one night - March 31, 1943 - against the backdrop of the premiere of "Oklahoma!," which was written by Hart's former working partner, Richard Rodgers, with Oscar Hammerstein, the film finds Hart at that moment when opportunity and love close the door in your face.

"Blue Moon" is quintessentially Linklater in that it is a hangout film that is primarily dialogue-driven and, in this case, takes place one on set - the bar where Hart is bemoaning his career fade-out as the party is just about to begin on the other side of the room once his former partner and that guy's entourage arrive. Meanwhile, Hart - who is gay - is curiously also fussing over a young woman, Elizabeth (Margaret Qualley), whom he refers to as his protege. His attentions toward her surprise the bartender, Eddie (Bobby Cannavale), who seemingly knows Hart well enough to find it strange that he's interested in a woman.

Much of the film is driven by Ethan Hawke's monologuing as Hart, a brash and talkative fellow who probably drives everyone at the bar - which includes a pianist (Jonah Lees) and E.B. White (Patrick Kennedy) - a little nuts. But Hart, we learn through his conversations with Elizabeth and Rodgers (Andrew Scott), is a person who gives - perhaps too much for his own good. He's also a person who can't keep his opinions to himself and can, at times, be his own worst enemy.

The film is often funny, mostly due to Hart's ability to be outrageous in all company. But he's also a tragic figure. As the film opens, we learn of his fate, which occurs just months before the picture is set, and much of the movie involves him coming to grips with the fact that his time has passed. There's an interesting moment early in the film in which Hart, Eddie, and the piano player discuss the ending of "Casablanca," in which the guy doesn't get the girl, and it acts as a metaphor of what's to come.

Hawke and Linklater have one of the most interesting working relationships in the movies - yielding such great works as the "Before" series, "Waking Life," and the remarkable "Boyhood." "Blue Moon" might seem like a minor entry - it has the feel of a play due to its one location and emphasis on dialogue - but it's a small film that hits its marks.

In the song that gives the film its title, one of the lyrics goes, "Blue moon, you saw me standing alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own," and then later, "I heard somebody whisper, 'Please adore me.'" During the film's second half, Hart watches Rodgers receive that adoration - of which he and Hammerstein would get an abundance over the years - while he finds himself, as the song says, standing alone. This is a small film that often packs a big punch.

Review: Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere

Image courtesy of 20th Century Fox.

It's funny that in the past year there has been a movie about Bob Dylan going electric, while hiding behind the mask of the persona Bob Dylan as he releases his most commercial - and among his best - work, and another about Bruce Springsteen going acoustic while laying himself bare as he composes his least commercial - and one of his best - works to date.

Jeremy Allen White digs deep as The Boss and delivers a strong performance in a biopic that does what many of the best of the genre do: Rather than being an all-encompassing film about a musician, it picks a particular moment in their life that acts as a lens through which we can consider their entire career or mythos.

In the case of Cooper's film, the period in which we find Springsteen is the early 1980s following his commercial success with "The River" record and his first top 10 hit ("Hungry Heart"). Seemingly nervous about the stardom that seems sure to come his way - and will two years later with his blockbuster "Born in the U.S.A" record - Springsteen, possibly led by depression, barricades himself in a room and records the spare, haunting "Nebraska" album.

Surely the only record ever to be inspired by the killing spree of Charles Starkweather - we see Bruce watching Terence Malick's classic "Badlands," which stars Martin Sheen as that notorious criminal - "Nebraska" was an album with only Springsteen on the guitar, no backup band, and captured on a four-track TEAC 144 Portastudio recorder that results in an echoey haunted sound as if it were an object out of time. 

Springsteen was apparently inspired by Suicide's self-titled underground record for the album's overall vibe and, sure enough, there's a moment in which a friend (Paul Walter Hauser) seems alarmed when Bruce is lying on the floor and listening to that record's most harrowing track, "Frankie Teardrop."

All the while, Springsteen strikes up a relationship with a single mother, Faye (Odessa Young), that seems doomed from the start and is haunted by memories of his childhood - rendered in black and white - during which his father (Stephen Graham) was abusive toward him and his mother (Gaby Hoffman). 

The songs written in that solitary New Jersey room - "Nebraska," "Mansion on the Hill," "State Trooper" and the all-timer "Atlantic City" - are all bleak stories of criminals, killers, and people living on the edge. There's a powerful moment in which we see Springsteen writing the lyrics to "Nebraska," thinking back on his troubled childhood, and then changing the "he" in the song - which refers to Starkweather - to "I" or "me."

Two of the most compelling threads in the film are Springsteen's depression, which is hinted at during the film's earlier moments before exploding into the foreground late in the picture, and his friendship with manager and producer Jon Landau (an excellent Jeremy Strong), who comes armed with support and great Flannery O'Connor quotes. Unlike so many other biopics, "Deliver Me from Nowhere" finds the most interesting angles of this story and focuses on them, rather than all the typical stuff you'd expect.

Lastly, this is a biopic that actually provides some insight into its subject. In case you hadn't noticed, Springsteen has been routinely criticizing our Dear Leader during recent concerts and the sequences in this film in which he confronts his father during childhood provide a window into the soul of a man who doesn't like bullying. It's also curious when the film that his father takes him to as a child is the likely scarring "The Night of the Hunter," in which a sinister Robert Mitchum terrorizes a family. 

I stand by my assertion that Todd Haynes' Dylan fantasmagoria "I'm Not There" remains the all-time champ for music biopics - and, hell, the Chalamet Dylan picture was good as well. "Deliver Me from Nowhere" might not be quite on that level, but it's an engaging film about a beloved musician that isn't a hagiography, nor a rousing success story, but rather an introspective view into a period in which the artist was struggling emotionally, but soaring creatively.